


it will come back

by myfinalpleasure



Category: Prospect (2018), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Also hello if you saw my tik tok, Because Din calls you kid sometimes, Between Reader and Din, Bounty Hunting, Breeding Kink, Broken Bones, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, Exposing myself in the tags rip, Ezra calls you little missy and little gem and ma'am, Ezra is cheeky af, F/M, Gentle Din Djarin, He's just all charm and smiles, Hello daddy issues, I hate tagging the sex stuff LMAO, I haven't decided for Ezra yet, I will have to add tags as more chapters are published, I would sell my limbs to be a caretaker for Grogu, Implied Age Gap, Jealous Din Djarin, Light Dom/sub, Lots and lots of smut, Mechanic Ezra to the rescue, Mother-Son Relationship with Grogu, No Your Name, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, POV Female Reader, Probably a switch, Smut, Song: It Will Come Back (Hozier), Switch Din, Switch Reader, They meet Ezra after, Threesome - F/M/M, i left the reader as undescribed as possible to make it more inclusive to lots of ladies!!, no y/n, okay enjoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfinalpleasure/pseuds/myfinalpleasure
Summary: You muster as much patience as you can, and that shuts him up, so you continue, though your hands stay clasping each other. “The ship is shit. I’m sorry, I love her, but she is. We need to get it fixed professionally, or at least bring someone here to do it. With my wrist - I certainly can’t do everything. You’ve got two more jobs for this week that can’t be put off, so you can’t either. Grogu is having a really hard time, we’re both exhausted. We could bring someone onboard for two weeks, a month, tops. They could help around, shadow me and be my hands. We need help. Please, Din.”------After a bad encounter with a quarry that leads to a broken wrist, you and Din are at a loss for what to do when things get particularly chaotic aboard the Crest. Someone unexpected offers their services to you, leading to an experience none of you anticipated.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, Din Djarin/Ezra (Prospect 2018)/You, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, The Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 71





	1. i know who i am (when i'm alone)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likezoinksscoob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likezoinksscoob/gifts).



“Get up. Now.” You hold the blaster steady in your hand, the heavy weight of the cold weapon familiar under your touch. You point it at the Zabrak, a male with piercing dark eyes and yellow skin, and he smirks at you, unbothered by your demands. He sits, panting, having been tripped by you only a moment ago. 

He laughs mockingly. “That’s a big blaster for a lady.”

“Jorben Lacer.” You sneer. “That’s a big bounty on your head. Get. Up.” 

_Where the hell is Din_ , you wonder, feeling a mild panic grow. He was right behind you, and told you to go ahead - he was going to get Jorben while you carved a path back out the corridors of the compound. He trusted you, he trusted you to wait, and use your skills to help him get the quarry. But, you had stumbled across Jorben instead, and now had him cornered, though no way of getting the Zabrak back outside to the Crest. You keep eye contact with the bounty, trying to show you aren’t afraid of him. He doesn’t budge, instead continuing to stare up at you, the gears in his head turning. 

In a split second he lunges forward, capturing your arm in his hand, and you fire the weapon, once, twice, the blast hitting the stone wall both times. Jorben twists your wrist painfully, and dropping the blaster, you let out a cry at the feeling of something snapping, horrible pain seeping into your nerves. He pushes you against the wall, at least two feet taller than you, and his long hair tickles the back of your neck as he pins you in place. 

Hissing something in Zabraki you don’t understand, Jorben keeps your hurt wrist in his tight grip, pushing your other hand above your head. He then laughs again, this time much louder. “Here’s what's going to happen. I’m going to walk away and you’re never going to see me again.” 

“Excuse me.” 

The gentle voice through a modulator is all that’s needed for you to close your eyes in relief as you feel Jorben turn around, and get yanked off of you. You whip around to watch the scene unfold, your Mandalorian bringing a heavy punch down upon the Zabrak’s face, and with a quick movement, the quarry is captured with his hands bound in binders. 

“Thank you,” is all you can muster up now, but you’ll thank him properly in the safety of the Crest. The Beskar helmet looks away from the bounty as you scoop up your blaster, the T-visor meeting your eyeline, and while you can’t see him, you know he’s looking at you with the same gentleness of the touches he gives you late at night. “Where did you run off to?” You ask, eyeing the scorch marks from blasters on Din’s chestplate. 

“Sorry. Got held up.” 

“Did you kill the others?” Jorben yells, then spits, blood pooling in the divet above his lip from his nose. “Did you kill them?” 

“I didn’t come for them.” Din says plainly, yanking the Zabrak upwards and pushing him forward. “Let’s go.” 

The three of you begin your ascension back to the ground level, the maze of corridors in the compound confusing, but Din leads you, somehow knowing exactly where to go. You don’t encounter anyone else, just a room full of smuggled supplies and a few channel rats skittering along the sandstone. You cradle your wrist in your hand, not having mentioned it to your partner yet. It’s already swollen and painful to touch, but you can’t tell yet if it’s a bad sprain or actually a break. You experimentally try to clench your fingers. You can, but pain rockets through your muscles and you hiss quietly. Better to leave it for now, until you can inspect it more carefully on the ship.

After reaching the final stretch, yor group marches up a flight of stairs, and Din opens a large door to reveal a blazing sun beaming down upon you. Your eyes squint involuntarily, having been encased in low light for the past hour. You envy Din, whose helmet basically has built in sunglasses, as you use your good arm to shield the rays from your face. 

The Tattooine sands stretch far as the eye can see heading East, but South, there’s the closeness of Mos Eisley, and therefore, your current home, the Razor Crest. Outside the compound is a Tantive IV Landspeeder Din and yourself borrowed from a friend in town. Din loads the quarry into the speeder, tugging on the binders to ensure their security. He climbs in the front, and you take your queue to get in to drive. Hiding your bad wrist in your vest, you start up the vehicle and take off, dust and rocks kicking up into the air, though it proves mildly harder to drive with your non-dominant hand. You focus hard and stare ahead, the cool wind whipping through your hair and relaxing your skin under the heat of the desert sun. You can feel Din watching you, but you don’t grant him a glance. You feel the looming of a scolding later on, though you’re not sure about what. 

You slow down as you get into town, gliding carefully through the streets that are filled with a melange of different species. The town is quite busy today, there’s some sort of special market open that has many people with baskets and bags maneuvering through the sandy streets, happily chattering with their friends and family as they trade and pass credits and merchandise. You pull up to your destination and park the speeder, and climbing out, you wait patiently while Din assists the Zabrak with his bound hands to climb out of the vehicle. 

“Don’t touch me,” Jorben snarls, trying to twist away from your partner, who simply grips him tighter. 

“Quiet.” Din snaps back, and pulls the Zabrak forward, and you all walk through the shop, droids running about comedically; they weld, hammer, and test engine parts and ship bits, and you offer a tired smile to a R3 droid that beeps happily as you walk past. 

“Are they out back?” You ask, and the droid blips a confirmation, so you all exit out the back door, where the Crest is sitting in all its charming patched-together glory. You sigh in relief, needing to just sit down and relax, but first the quarry needs to be frozen, you have set the engines, and you need to find-

“Look! It’s our favourite duo!” A familiar voice yells over the sound of a drill, and you all turn to see Peli’s frizz peek out from behind a M31, a large pair of goggles covering half her features. She tugs them off, revealing large soot circles around her eyes, and she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. She turns off her drill and steps around the airspeeder, a big smile on her face as she gestures to the quarry. “Huh. Big bounty?” 

Din doesn’t answer but opens the Crest’s ramp with a button on his vambrace, and brings Jorben into the ship, presumably to meet his carbonite destination. 

“It was a haul,” You reply instead, and reach into your pocket and pull out a bag of credits. It’s not a lot, but you can’t risk too much during tight times like these. “For your troubles, and the speeder and gas. Thank you.” She takes it and thanks you back, and you look around your feet curiously. “Speaking of, where’s..”

On cue, a big giggle erupts from near the M31, and you and Peli turn to see a familiar pair of big green ears poke out from behind, and Grogu waddles out, holding a big tool between his little hands. 

“Hey kid!” You grin, and step forward to scoop him up awkwardly with one hand. He’s covered in grease and dirt, and you laugh as he looks at you with big shiny eyes. “You’ve had a busy day.” 

“Busy, my butt.” Peli rolls her eyes, though you can tell she’s joking around. “He’s as sneaky as a Loth cat, that one! He kept hiding my tools, thinking that being cute would get him out of trouble.” 

“He’s usually right about that,” you laugh, recalling the many times his coos and baby eyes had melted your heart despite his shenanigans that often caused you more stress than fun. “Were you bothering Peli while she was trying to work, huh? Stealing her tools? Would this be one?” You gently turn him around to show your friend the handled tool Grogu is wielding, and Peli carefully takes it from the kid, who gives it up without a fight. 

Thunking behind you alerts you to Din walking down the ramp, his boots landing heavily on the walkway. He comes up behind you and offers a finger to Grogu in greeting, who takes his father’s hello gratefully by wrapping his hands around the glove. 

“Hey, buddy.” Din slips the hand away after a minute, but you pass Grogu to your partner anyways, anxious to get inside the ship and deal with your wrist. 

“Thank you so much,” You tell Peli, and step forward to give her a hug. “I wish we could stay longer, but we’ve got a kid to feed, a quarry to deliver, and a lot of sleep to catch up on.” 

She pulls you in, hugging back gratefully, and shaking Din’s hand after you part. “Hey, you know you’re always welcome back here, especially if you bring this cute little bugger.” She adds with a little pat on Grogu’s head. “I’ll see you around, Clan.” 

And with that, you part ways - you, Din, and the baby entering the ship, and Peli walking into her shop. 

Once inside, you press the keyboard buttons to close the ramp, and tiredness hitting your chest, heavier than before. You push it down as you head forward to the ladder, only half turning to address Din. “Could you wash and feed Grogu, please? I’ll set the engines and get us up and going.” 

Din silently nods, his emotion unreadable as he takes the kid to the sink to get all the gunk off of him. You climb the ladder one handed, once in the privacy of the cockpit, you take a minute to sink into the pilot’s chair, the comfortable leather easing you into a slouched position. You close your eyes and lean back for a minute. Din would normally pilot in this situation, and you would help the kid (hello, gender norms - not that it bothers you, but Din actually likes piloting, and you like taking care of Grogu), but Din must have sensed something was wrong for so willingly switching places with you today. 

Casting that aside for now, you turn on the engines, letting them hum to life and run for a few minutes. Recently, if the Crest lifted off too fast, it had taken to sputtering and jolting, and without the funds to replace the boosters, you were stuck sitting and letting the engines work for a bit, letting them warm up and praying that was enough. It had worked so far, but eventually you would need to figure something out that was better than the current band aid solution. 

Once ready, you turn on the autopilot, needing the extra hand in taking off, with your throbbing wrist sitting uncomfortably in your lap. The ship takes off without issue, ascending higher and higher into the sky. You lean back once more into the seat, relief swelling up to mix with pride as the Crest begins to carry you into the stars. 

Satisfied with your current route, you climb back down into the main area, ready to get Din’s help with your injury. It’s nothing to be ashamed about, you know, but he so rarely gets hurt, and you always seem to be needing the medkit. Shocks, cuts, bruises, sprains, that one time you got a concussion standing up too fast in the underfloor crawl space and smacked your head - it was embarrassing. Din never shames you for it though, usually you just get a gentle reminder to be more careful, or, if it was an injury related to the bounty hunting field, he offered a training lesson in self defense. Of course, you always took him up on it, but your skills would never measure up to his, though to be fair, he has about thirty years of experience over you. It is kind of surprising he ever takes you out on jobs. It’s not too frequent, but the fact that he does it all is always sort of sweet. You know he does it more for the sake of you gaining some experience, and him trying to show his trust and admiration for you, and definitely not because he actually ever needs help. No, he is more than capable of taking down quarries himself, but it’s still fun to tag along either way. 

Downstairs, Grogu, now clean, is sitting in his pram, happily shovelling some sort of goopy food in his mouth from a bowl, and you look at him proudly, impressed with his hand eye coordination with his utensils. Din sits on a crate beside him, ready with a washcloth in case of any spillage. Din stands when he sees you, putting the cloth down and stepping forward. His naked hand gently rubs down your sleeve on your good arm, and you cherish the moment of warmth. 

“Something’s wrong, kid,” he looks down at you. “I could tell on the speeder.”

“Yeah,” you admit, and lift your swollen wrist, which looks much worse now that you get a good look at it. “Jorben totally annihilated my arm at the compound. Gosh, it’s like a balloon,” you bring your other hand up to poke at the skin, and Din quickly pries it away. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, using his ‘dad voice’ he uses to redirect Grogu. “Come in here.” He leads you into the lavatory and sets you down on a stool in there, one that had been placed inside once the occurrence of your injuries became a common theme. Din leaves the door open, with a clear view of his son, who still coos and slurps at his food, unbothered by your walking away. “Let me see, please.” Din squats in front of you, huge and armoured but so gentle with his soft fingers as he inspects your wrist, and your stomach flutters to life as you blush. 

“It’s my dominant hand, too,” you complain, knowing it’ll be a big strain on your daily responsibilities. “You look really cute right now, by the way.” 

Din looks up at you and laughs lightly before standing up. “Thanks. I’m going to grab the kit.” 

You watch him step out of the bathroom for a minute, and you shake off your utility vest and unclip your blaster holster from your pants, getting a bit more comfortable. Din returns with the kit and glances at Grogu again, checking to see his progress on his dinner. 

“He’ll be tired after today,” You note as your partner kneels in front of you. The lavatory is cramped but Din doesn’t complain as he zips open the medical supplies, nodding in agreement. 

“That means he’ll sleep well.” Din replied softly. “It’s good when he can.” 

What surprises you next is Din reaching up and pulling off his helmet to place aside. Yes, you have seen his face before. Yes, he was the one who showed it to you willingly. Yes, you still fall in love all over again _every time_. 

You travelled with him for almost two years before you instigated a relationship beyond friendship and professionalism, and another year after that before he even mentioned the idea of showing you his face. It had been so exciting and intimate that even the mention had made you instantly and hopelessly devoted to Din, but you assured him there was no pressure to do so, and the two of you had managed just fine with the helmet as far. But it was a warm night on the Crest, holding each other on the impossibly small cot you were forced to share (there was no way you were sleeping in that sorry excuse for a bed that you were pretty sure was actually just an old storage closet), and you were droning on about some holofilm you had watched recently, with your head resting on his chest, head under his chin, when you were suddenly aware of his lips against your hair, his hand gently smoothing your scalp. 

You froze instantly. You hadn’t felt him take it off, but your gaze shifted to the side and you saw the helmet laying on the ground, shining and empty. 

“Din,” you whispered, barely audible. 

“You can look.” He said softly, his voice naked without the modulator. 

Your hand came up to your mouth, and tears welled in your eyes. You still didn’t move for a minute, your heart beating so hard, hitting your ribs like a bird in a cage, and you could swear it might just jump out of your body. You could feel Din’s breathing, anxious and quick. With your slowest movement, you moved off of Din’s chest and propped yourself off on your stomach and elbow, and finally, you looked. 

Three years of yearning and love and passion exploded from your heart, the beats of the organ turning into thrums that rushed throughout your whole body as you just looked. 

There wasn’t a word in all the languages of the universe that could have described what you felt in that moment. 

Deep, dark eyes stared back at you, filling with salty tears as you watched from above him. Darker than space, but as warm as the Florrum sun; his eyes were beautiful. His hooked nose sat above a well groomed mustache, with some light stubble along his strong jaw and chin. His lips, the lips you had only so far dreamed of kissing, were almost pouty, and it took everything then not to press against him. And his hair - maker, his hair - soft warm caf coloured hair that was long enough to curl, long enough that you could tuck it behind his ear. 

Your fingers came up so gently, like trying not to scare away an animal, and brushed across his lips. Din inhaled sharply, his eyes closing in trust as you ran your hand across his mouth, his cheek, his nose, his eyelids, and carefully through his hair.   
He whispered your name, raw and soft, and opened his eyes, a tear escaping the corner and running down his cheek. He took your hand in his and kissed your palm, staring deep into your eyes. “Come here. Please.” He beckoned quietly, and you obeyed, leaning forward to capture him in a passionate kiss. 

That night you made love over and over until exhaustion overtook you, and you held his face the whole time. 

And now, it takes all your being not to start something, because he looks so sweet rifling through the medkit with naked eyes. He catches you looking and you smile, reaching out to touch one of his curls. 

“Something on your mind?” He asks, bringing up some bacta and some bandages. 

“I was thinking about the first time I saw your face.” 

Din hummed in response, disinfecting his hands before opening the bacta packet to smear over your wrist. You watched his careful hands, like an artist, holding you and painting the cool solution over where the skin has bruised and swollen. You hissed a little in pain, but continued. 

“It was..” you pause and think about your words for a minute. “Well, it was really special. I want you to know that. It helped me know you wanted me to stay.” 

“Did you think I wanted you to leave?” He asks, placing some sort of hard splint under your wrist to wrap the bandages around. 

You shake your head. “No, not at all, but, like,” you smile as his eyes meet yours. “It meant staying forever.” Pretending to ignore the way his eyes light up and his cheeks darken with blush, you hold up your now numbed arm, inspecting the caring way your partner wrapped it. You wiggle your fingers gently and decide it’s best not to aggravate it further. 

You and Din stand at the same time, chest to chest in the small space, and he looks down at you with a kind smile, and takes your good hand in his, and brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles softly. Your own cheeks heat as you giggle, looking away with shyness. 

“You’re not going to be sappy, are you?” 

“You brought it up,” Din accuses, leaning down to scoop up his helmet. “Of course I want you forever.” He adds nonchalantly as he squeezes past you to see his son, leaving you giddy and just a little bit ( _definitely more than a little bit_ ) aroused. 

\---------------------------

“Din, Din, Din-” You gasp, clutching at his back desperately as he ruts into you on the small bed. You arch your back into his body, exposing your breasts and throat to him in pleasure. 

The kid is sleeping, in his pod, in the cockpit, and the two of you are taking advantage of the space to yourselves, as well as burning off some stress and warm tension from the day. Din watches you like you’re the only thing in the universe that matters, his dark eyes catching yours as he scoops his arms under you to press your chests together. He thrusts into you faster, and your bad hand continues to rest on his back, and your other comes up behind your head to grip the edge of the cot. Everytime the two of you fuck on the stupid small thing, you swear you’ll save up some credits to get a bigger and better bed, even a mattress on the ground - anything would be better than this. It feels like the two of you might just sink into the middle and fall through, but you haven't yet, so you just keep praying it will support all the activities it’s home to. 

Panting quickly, Din’s mouth hangs open a little bit, and he pushes into you deeply. “Is this good, sweetheart? You like it?” 

Your core flutters with the promise of release, and you nod, managing to somehow find words. “Yes, yes, please, keep going.” You bite your inner cheek hard as he moans, louder than he normally does, keeping that painfully beautiful pace of thrusting. He’s nearing his climax, and you want him to finish inside you, you want him to come hard. 

Your hands come up to your breasts, and you squeeze them and roll your nipples as your eyes shut tight, panting and moaning loudly into Din’s ear. His movements become less precise, chasing the high he’s so close to getting. 

“Please, please, fill me up with your cum, Din, come on-” 

He comes with a moan that he muffles into your shoulder, squishing your bodies together tightly as his hot seed shoots into your pussy, deep inside you. Thin layers of sweat cover you both, and you pant as you watch his body steady from the tremors of his orgasm. 

Not missing a beat, Din slides off the cot with ease, resting on his knees near the bed’s edge. He grabs your hips and yanks you forward, your ass nearly hanging off the side. This not being your first rodeo, you easily follow his prompts and rest your knees on his shoulders as he dips his head to lick a stripe up your throbbing clit. 

You jolt at the feeling and bring your back off the cot for a minute, sighing as he begins to lap at your pussy, slick with both of your juices. It’s hot, knowing he’s going down on you with his cum leaking out, and you resist the urge to help him along with your fingers, wanting to feel the same euphoria he’s fresh from. 

“I could do this all night,” Din whispers between your thighs, and you shiver at his breath on your skin. 

“I don’t need all night, I need to come,” you moan back, irritated that he isn’t sucking an orgasm out of you right now, though he’s definitely proven before that he could eat you out all night, if you had the patience for it. But tonight you don’t. “Another time, sweet thing.” You add, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. 

Din takes his cue and dips his tongue back into you, his hands gripping your thighs and kneading them while his mouth fucks you like his life depends on it. His teeth graze over your clit and you rut against him, your bad arm resting over your closed eyes as you focus on reaching your pleasure. Your good hand fists in his curls, pushing him closer into you. He moans against your folds, his face buried deep within your center. His pointed nose rubs right up against where it feels best and your panting grows louder. He pulls away for a second to whisper your name, and you look down at him. 

His eyes are hooded, almost closed, like he’s high off of you, but there’s a lustful spark within the dark brown colour around his irises. Your slick is smeared on his chin and he licks his flushed lips eagerly. 

“Show me where.” He swallows hard, and you use your hand in his hair to redirect his mouth to your clit, and even his pants against it are enough to drive you up the fucking wall. He leans forward to capture the bud in his mouth, and he sucks hard, keeping his eyes on you. 

“Good boy,” you praise, but you can’t keep your neck craned uncomfortably like you are, so you flop back on the bed and arch your body into his mouth, feeling the sweat behind your knees gather as he works his mouth magic on you, humming quietly into your pussy. He senses you’re about to come when you pull his hair and he circles his tongue around you over and over until you’re climaxing, coming on his face with a moan and that wonderful warm reverberation running through your body that clenches your toes and makes your heart beat ten times faster. 

Din climbs back on the bed, and brings his face near yours, silently asking for help. You kiss the corner off his mouth and lick some of your slick away, watching his eyes flutter close and he sighs. You burst out laughing then, kissing his cheeks over, and then his nose and lips. He opens his eyes and laughs lightly, searching your face for an explanation. 

“What?” He questions.

You keep giggling and hold his face. “Nothing. I just love you.”


	2. leave it to the land (this is what it knows)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Din are having a difficult week. You land on Rion, and meet a stranger who offers just what you need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay hello. This is a fic for my dear friend, whom I love. Thank you for being horny with me all the time <3 There will probably be about 4 or five chapters. I did not expect it to be so long, but I got carried away. Enjoy.

“Please, Grogu, you need to eat your breakfast,” You plead, but he doesn’t let up. His cheeks are almost red and he won’t even look at you, turning his head away and refusing the spoon of little cubed food you’re holding in your hand. “Someone’s grumpy today,” you try to tease, but he whines angrily and you sigh in exasperation. 

It has not been an easy week. The ship is in the worst condition it’s ever been after a dog fight with a quarry a few days ago that had begun with a simple ship chase and ended with two smoking wings and difficult time getting the bounty on board. Din won’t admit it but you know it was one of the tougher quarries he has had to deal with. Grogu decided to take these past few days of all days to be in a permanent stubborn and cranky mood. You thought maybe he had a flu or was growing in new teeth (could 50 year old babies have new teeth come in?), but nothing you seemed to do helped him. He was constantly crying and awake, and you were utterly exhausted. Din and yourself traded off staying up with him, while the other worked ship repairs or trying a bit of sleep, to no avail. Din had two more quarries to get before a cut off time to when they were due. It wasn’t often that clients gave Din a date to have a job done by, especially since he naturally was so fast, but of course, this was the week of all weeks that he needed to be faster than usual. 

You lean against the wall, running your hand through your hair. Your bad wrist is wrapped in bacta gel pads to ward off the pain, and bandages to secure them, which Din had delightfully been taking care of for you. It was short moments alone in the lavatory that made everything easier. But you couldn't forget everything else that was going wrong.

You see him before you hear him come up next to you, ever quiet, watching as Grogu slaps the plate of food on his tray, sending the bits flying all over the floor. 

“Hey,” Din scolds, leaning down to try and catch his son’s eye line. “That’s not okay. We don’t throw things.” 

That’s all it takes before Grogu starts blubbering and crying, big tears rushing down his little cheeks, and Din sighs and picks him up, but the kid is having none of it, wriggling and pushing his little claws against his father’s chest plate, trying to get away. Tired as you both are, you stand up and try to soothe the crying by shushing him and smoothing down the little hairs on his green head, without much success. 

“He’s just having a hard week.” You offer, coaxing Grogu from Din to try and bounce him yourself. 

“I know,” Din hands off the baby, but keeps his hand on the small of your back. “We all are.” 

It’s later, when Grogu is having a rare nap, after having cried himself to exhaustion, that you find Din’s backend sticking out of a grate, where he’s welding something inside. On a better day, you might have slapped his ass playfully to get a rise out of him, but today you let him know of your presence with a gentle hand on his thigh. He immediately crawls out, and you sit on the floor to be at his level, so he stays, and mirrors your position by crossing his legs on the ground. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

“Hi,” you half laugh, relieved to have a moment to talk to your partner. “I had a thought. We should consider bringing someone else on to help-” 

“No.” 

You roll eyes, annoyed that he’s already shutting you down, shaking his head. “Just listen-”

He says your name, reaching out for your good hand and scooching closer. “We don’t have the credits to bring someone else.” 

“Okay, but instead of interrupting, why don’t you just listen to what I’m trying to say?” You muster as much patience as you can, and that shuts him up, so you continue, though your hands stay clasping each other. “The ship is shit. I’m sorry, I love her, but she is. We need to get it fixed professionally, or at least bring someone here to do it. With my wrist - I certainly can’t do everything. You’ve got two more jobs for this week that can’t be put off, so you can’t either. Grogu is having a really hard time, we’re both exhausted. We could bring someone onboard for two weeks, a month, tops. They could help around, shadow me and be my hands. We need help. Please, Din.”

Since Din had become comfortable taking his helmet off in front of you, you had gotten more comfortable with his facial expressions, thus sometimes making it harder to read what he was feeling behind the Bekar. Din tilts his head and looks away, then back to you. You stare back at the T-visor, waiting for him to speak. 

“My life,” he finally says, “ _Our_ life, on this ship, is very private. How long did it take for us to come to this point?” 

You bite your lip. You know what he’s getting at. “Years.” You reply.

“This is my home,” he continues. “that I’ve built with you. You and the kid - if someone else were here - I couldn’t feel safe or comfortable. You want to be left alone with a stranger?” 

“I’m not helpless.” You tighten your jaw. 

“I know you’re not. But I can’t have someone else in here, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t...” 

“You wouldn’t feel like you could be yourself,” You finish for him, and lean across your laps to touch a palm to his Beskar cheek. “Don’t worry, I remember how long it took for you to warm up to me.”

You both chuckle, and Din tilts into your touch. “We can still get the Crest fixed up at our next stop.” 

“Do we have the credits for that?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

You’re unsure about how Din could ‘figure it out’, but you don’t want to instigate an argument, and on cue, you hear Grogu’s familiar wailing start up. Both you and Din freeze for a minute, before you sigh and stand up. “I’ll get him.” 

“Are you sure?” Din stands up too, but you nod and yawn. 

“Yeah, you go ahead and finish what you’re doing, I’ll try to take a nap with him.” Before leaving, you bring one of his gloved hands to your lips and kiss the knuckles with a tired smile before you leave, climbing the ladder down to meet the source of loud tears. 

You pick him up and wipe some snot away from his lip as you laugh dejectedly. “Oh, jeez, baby,” you sigh. “What a hard week you’ve had. Let’s go lay down for a bit, okay?” 

Together you climb into the cot, with Grogu latching onto the front of your shirt with his little claws. The ship makes an unfamiliar clanking sound, followed by a loud curse by Din from the cockpit above. You sigh, pulling the blankets over your bodies, and rest Grogu next to you. His cries have softened to quiet whimpers and sniffles, his tiredness clearly winning over as you rest together in the warm sheets. Sleep quickly overtakes you, the cot’s uncomfortableness an afterthought as you sink into the middle, and with the child following your lead, you both drift into slumber. 

You wake to a soft voice saying your name, with a dim light shining above you. Your eyes creak open, squinting as you look to see Din lying opposite you. His helmet is off, but the rest of his armour is still on, as you can feel his Bekar thigh brushing against yours under the blanket.

“Better not have put your boots in the bed,” you mumble, closing your eyes again. 

Din laughs quietly, reaching up to brush some hair from your face. “No, they’re off. The kid’s still sleeping.” He adds.

You look down to see Grogu still nestled against you, now between yourself and Din, who snuck into the bed at some point. You realize then that the ship isn’t making any noise and you carefully sit up in the low light. 

“How long have we been landed?” 

Din stays lying down, gently rubbing circles on his son’s head. “Not long. I wanted you two to rest some more.” 

You hum in thanks, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. “Where are we?” 

“Outer Rim. Rion.” Din answers before sitting up, and adjusting Grogu’s blanket carefully. “We need a cheap mechanic. But a good one.” 

“Why don’t we just go back to Peli?” 

“The Crest can’t make it all the way back to Tatooine. She’s in rough shape.” 

You nod in acknowledgment. Yours and Din’s savings were pretty scarce, between taking care of three people, the ship, and extra costs, there was just enough for what you three needed to survive, and while you weren’t living uncomfortably (save for the cot), it wasn’t nice to make decisions about what was worth spending credits on. You had never been on Rion before, but you had heard there were some workers colonies and trading posts, as well as some nice beaches. That thought brightens your mood as you carefully scoot off the bed and come around to stand in front of Din. He looks up at you with big brown eyes, watching you intently and you run a hand through his curls. 

“Well, let’s make the best of this. There’s beaches here, you know.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m aware.”

“And some nice forests..” You touch his cheeks gently and he brings his hands to your waist. You smile at each other before he laughs lightly, standing to his full height. 

He looks back at his sleeping son on the bed, then at you. “Maybe some time outside would do him well.” 

“Gorgu, look at that!” 

A few hours later, after some cleaning, a warm meal, and packing for a day out, you’ve stepped out of the ship with Grogu on your hip, and Din trailing behind. The sun is bright and there’s a cool breeze, and not far from the ship, you can see ocean waves lapping at a sandy shore. Grogu cooes with excitement, reaching forward with his arms. 

“Yeah! Yeah, we can go, let’s go.” You bounce him playfully, then turn to look back at Din. Though his helmet is on now, you can tell he’s smiling at you. 

“Go on,” he urges, so you turn and jog towards the water, with the kid laughing the whole way there. 

Your boots hit sand and you slow down, the weight of the two of you causing you to sink a little in the soft grains as you inhale the salty smell of the sea. The water is almost green, and it takes immense patience not to just jump in there. You dump your small bag in the sand and shed your boots by kicking them off, before placing Grogu down. He starts to waddle toward the water as you shed your shirt and pants, so you quickly rush forward and scoop him up. 

In just your undergarments the wind is a little colder now, but you hurry towards the waves, slowly easing your feet into the water. It’s surprisingly warm, compared to the atmosphere, so you waste no more time before walking in, with Grogu wiggling in your arms. 

Behind you on the beach, Din catches up to where you dumped your belongings and he sits in the sand, observing from a safe distance. You wave to him, wishing desperately he could come join you both, but you know it’s not safe for him to remove his armour somewhere so easily seen by others.

He nods back at you, and you turn back around, holding Grogu out at a distance to bop him up and down in the water, which is now waist level. You’re careful not to aggravate your wrist, but honestly, you’re having too much fun to care. The water laps at you pleasantly as you play together, with the kid hitting the water with his little hands. 

It’s about an hour later of playing that you finally come out of the water, walking up to Din, dripping wet with a big smile on your face. He’s leaning back on his elbows as he looks up at you and his son, and he offers you a towel from the bag you brought. You wrap it around yourself and hand Grogu off to Din, who sits up to wrap him in a second one. 

You sit down beside your partner, sand sticking to your wet butt, and water dripping down your face. Your wrist bandages are peeling off from the water, but you pay them no mind. The view is too beautiful to be thinking about that. The sun is setting over the water, casting a colourful glow across the horizon. Din rubs a hand over your arm, pulling you closer to him, and you press your cheek against his shoulder, the Beskar pressing into you. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, adjusting Grogu in his lap, who has been wrapped into a bundle. 

“Not at all,” you smile, adjusting your towel around yourself. “I wish you could have come in with us.”

“Me too,” he offers, turning to look at you. 

“Can you even swim?” You ask, searching his visor with a grin. 

“Not well,” he admits, and you both break into a laugh, with even Grogu cooing loudly at the voices around him. The three of you snuggle closer, watching the sunset over the ocean. “Tomorrow,” Din continues, “We’ll go to the colony in town and see if we can get some help.” 

“I know it’s hard for you,” you say quietly. “having to ask for help. You’re really good at fixing the ship, Din, we just need some extra help with stuff that we can’t do ourselves.”

Din’s hand runs over your thigh sweetly, keeping his gaze on the water. “I know. It’ll be okay. We’ll find someone.”

The trip to the ocean yesterday seems to have cured Grogu’s permanent bad mood, at least for now, and you’re in good spirits as the three of you set off for the day. There’s a town within view, not a far walk, but it’s not particularly inviting. Smog and dust billows into the air, coming from gray and brown buildings made of stone and duracrete. Din walks alongside you, with Grogu in a sling on your back for ease, and together the three of you saunter towards the town. The weather is pleasant and cool, making you want to go for another swim, but today is about finding someone cheap who can help you with the ship. 

There’s some market stalls at the opening to the town, with a family of Snivvians calling and urging you over to sell their wares. You hurry over to be polite, and Din sighs behind you as he follows. 

“Hello!” You greet cheerfully, and the family of five communicates amongst each other for a moment, a series of snorts and grunts, before one turns to you with a wide smile. 

She clasps her hands together. “Hello, dearest. Come for a vacation?” 

“Not quite,” you turn to look at Din, who’s watching something in the distance. “More of a pit stop. What are you selling?”

“What do you need?” She laughs, extending her arm across the stall. “We sell all - clothes, nourishment, toys for the little one, and sir,” she addresses Din, who brings his focus back, “a lovely necklace for the lady?” She holds up a long, beaded, red necklace and grins. 

Din steps forward to whisper in your ear. “We don’t have the credits to spare on shopping.”

You nod, not particularly disappointed, but you had hoped you maybe could at least grab something for the kid. You step back and shrug, but smile sympathetically to the Snivvian. “I’m sorry, not today!” 

“Is there somewhere here that offers mechanical help?” Din asks, hooking a thumb in his belt as you come to stand next to him. “We would appreciate the help.” 

You zone out as they talk, the market merchant directing your partner towards the town. You adjust the straps of the carrier, craning your neck to check Grogu behind you. His face is looking over your right shoulder, his big shiny eyes fixated on the noise coming from the town. You smile and reach up to poke his nose, before a gentle hand on your arm alerts you to Din ushering you along. 

Thanking the Snivvian, the three of you move past the stalls and into an archway that reveals the inner town. It’s foggy with smoke from machinery, with people milling around with carts and baskets of durasteel and tools. Most people are dressed in grays and browns, and the whole sight is rather dulling. You feel a pang of sadness for the workers - they live on such a beautiful planet, yet they themselves appear fairly lifeless. 

“The lady said there was a smelting factory down the road, with workers for hire.” Din explains as he brings you along, a hand on your lower back. “Lots of people come here for temporary jobs, apparently.” 

“I can’t imagine working here,” you whisper, not wanting to offend anyone. “It looks pretty depressing.”

You come up to a building that’s billowing with smoke from chimneys on top, and a large open garage style on the lowest level. There’s workers with welding masks and jumpsuits in a line up, tossing and melting down bits of durasteel, some others working at a forge. In the doorway, big enough to drive a speeder through, there’s a Nautolan standing and smoking, with a large blaster on his belt. Din approaches and you take a step back, feeling the heat from the building hot on your skin, and you don’t want Gorgu to feel uncomfortable. 

The Nautolan throws down the smoke and grinds it into the dirt with his boot. “Don’t see many like you around here.” He gestures at Din. “Derra Zapal. Can I help you?” 

“We need to hire a worker.” Din stands tall. “Someone with mechanical expertise for a pre-Empire gunship. I’ll pay, but we don’t have much. Is there someone here who could do this?” 

Derra’s face stiffens for a minute as he thinks. “Cheap? Maybe-” He turns around to yell into the workers’ space. “Garm! Come here a minute!” 

A worker near the forge jogs forward and pulls up his mask, revealing a human face dirtied with soot and sweat. He has a big beard and an eyepatch, and you can’t help but stare for a minute, intrigued as to how he lost an eye. 

“This..gentleman, he needs a mechanic. Gunship.” Derra explains. “Few credits, though.” 

“Lemme see,” Garm replies gruffly, and Din hands over a bag, to which Garm looks in and scoffs. “Listen pal, I’m not sure if you’ve been to Rion before, but most workers are looking to save up to get off this planet. I won’t work for any less than 3000.” 

“3000?” You can’t help but echo, and you finally step forward, hands on your hips. “That’s ridiculous. If you’re trying to save up credits, you would take anything offered.” 

Derra and Garm laugh loudly, and you feel your confidence sputter and die. It takes everything not to look to Din for comfort. 

Derra shrugs. “Listen lady, he said what he’ll work for. If you don’t have the credits, then take your friend, get lost, and stop wasting our time.” 

You’re about to snap something back, words you wouldn’t normally use in front of the kid, but Din grabs your good arm, tugging you away. He mutters something to himself as you turn and follow, taking your arm back. 

“It’s fine, we’ll figure something else out.” Din says, sensing your embarrassment and anger. “There’s an inn over there, let’s get you and the kid something to eat and we’ll plan.” 

Inside the inn, the atmosphere is different - it’s calmer, and there’s a low chatter amongst people who sit around in the dining area. You sit down at a wooden table as you unstrap Grogu from your back and move him to your lap. He’s been fairly quiet the entire time, which is a nice change from the week you were all having before. Your wrist throbs a little as you adjust him on your legs, reminding you to be more gentle with yourself. 

“Hey buddy,” you rub Grogu’s arms. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?” 

He gurgles as you watch Din walk to the counter, ordering some food. In the corner of the inn is a group of workers, on their break presumably, loudly laughing over something. There’s a few single people at tables, and otherwise, it’s empty. The lighting is warm and comforting, and you take a deep breath to relax yourself from the earlier confrontation. Din knows what he’s doing. He’ll find someone else to help. Or he’ll learn how to repair the ship himself, in the ways he doesn’t already know. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Din doesn’t always have all the answers and the ability to fix everything - he’s so strong, and builds a version of himself that makes you think he really could be anything you need him to be. But he’s still human, despite how much you love him, and you both need someone who has capabilities you both lack. 

Din returns to the table, two bowls in his hands, and he passes them to you. Rice and some unfamiliar vegetables inside, steaming and filling your nose with their delicious scent. Grogu’s ears perk with interest as you set the meal down, and Din takes the chair next to you. 

“Eat,” he says, reaching his hands out for his son. “I’ll feed him.” 

You hand the kid off and push the bowl in front of them, and proceed to dig into the food in front of you. You ask Din if he wants you to save him some for later, but he politely declines, gently spoon feeding Grogu with great patience, despite the bits of rice that stick to his chest plate from Grogu’s little hands. 

“Excuse me,” comes a voice as someone moves to stand in front of your table, and as you put a mouthful of food in your mouth you look up and freeze, your throat running dry and the air in your lungs catching for a split second. 

The stranger smiles, but it’s not a stranger’s smile. 

It’s Din’s smile, it’s Din’s eyes, his nose, his face- “You’re not a hard trio to find, what with all that Beskar. Shines here like twin suns.” The man continues, and you still haven’t moved, still reeling from what you’re seeing. You finally swallow your food, and blink a few times. 

The man is an uncanny replica of Din. 

Sure, there are small differences; the stranger has slightly darker, shorter hair with an albino patch in the front, his speech has a foriegn accent that Din does not possess, and his facial hair is patchier. Otherwise, he could be Din’s twin. Now is the first time you think to look at your partner, who while is wearing a helmet, you can sense his shock through the mask. Din makes no move to comment on the clone before you two, so you do the same, glancing back to meet the man’s eyes. 

You’re gripping the edge of the table hard enough to turn your knuckles white as you take in the rest of him. He’s wearing a pair of workers’ coveralls from the building you were just at, and his hair is stuck to his scalp with sweat and grime. He looks tired, but he grins like a lothcat with a secret as you stare at each other. 

“I’m Ezra,” he introduces himself and leans forward to shake your hand, before looking down at the soot in his palm. He laughs and pulls it away, wiping his hands on his thighs. “Factory life, my apologies. I couldn’t help overhearing you and yours are in a predicament?”

He looks between you and Din, but Din still says nothing, clearly in shock, so you lean forward on an elbow, and clear your throat. “Um, yeah...yeah. That’s right. That Nautolan wasn’t very nice to us.” 

“Yes, I observed so. Which is what brings me here. Now forgive my forwardness, ma’am, but you seem to be in the same situation I am. In deep shit.” He laughs dryly, glancing over at your partner, who seems to be making him mildly nervous. “Both tethered to a planet with no means to leave. Now, it so happens, I am looking to get off this Boreal haven, and you are attempting to procure a mechanic with high expertise. You are in luck, little missy.” 

“What are you getting at?” Din suddenly speaks, and even with Grogu gurgling in his lap, he’s scary as hell right now, staring down Ezra with some sort of testosterone fuelled intimidation. 

Ezra laughs again and holds his hands up. “I myself can help you. For a ride somewhere off these shores, I will fix your gunship good as new. No credits, pro bono.” 

“For a hitch?” You clarify, shocked. 

“On my life, for a hitch.” Ezra winks at you, and Din shifts in his chair, handing Grogu off to you. You take him quickly and watch your partner stand and saunter over to Ezra, staring him down. Din is slightly taller, though you figure it may be the armour giving him the extra inches. They are less than a foot apart, with Din’s wide frame dwarfing the stranger. You can’t possibly imagine what Din is thinking right now, staring at a clone of himself, but he’s intimidating Ezra, who swallows visibly, but doesn’t stand down, simply looking right into the T-visor. You sense Din about to tell Ezra off, or refuse his help. 

You stand up so quickly your chair nearly falls over. “Deal.” You say, adjusting the baby in your arms. “It’s a deal.” 

Ezra turns to look at you with a wide smirk. “Now we’re talking! Thank you, ma’am. No hard feelings, my armoured friend?” He offers his hand again, this time to Din, who slowly accepts it, but looks at you. You can feel his anger from where you are, but you don’t cower, knowing you made the right choice. 

“Pack.” you tell your new hire. “Meet us out of town at the shore at sundown. You’ll see the ship.” 

Ezra nods and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sundown. I’ll be there.” He walks out of the inn, whistling, and within seconds, Din has his hand on your back and he leans in your ear. 

“Outside. Now.” 

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” You reason, sitting on a large rock with Grogu wriggling in your lap. 

“You shouldn’t have agreed. We’ll tell him it’s off.” 

“That man has your face!” You laugh, exasperated. “You don’t think that’s a little strange? Of course I’m going to take the deal! I want to know why he has your face!” 

Din sighs, and places his hands on his hips while he looks down at you. “There are millions of beings in this galaxy. A doppelganger isn’t an impossibility.” 

“But one that’s identical?” You reason as he moves to sit next to you. “That just happens to be on the Outer Rim planet we land on, working in a building we go to, with the skill set we require?” 

“A coincidence.”

“Fate!” You pass Grogu to him, and place your hand on his knee. “A long lost twin perhaps, destined to be reunited with you?” You joke, rubbing his leg.

Din chuckles lightly at that, shaking his head. “I don’t have any long lost twins, I’m sorry to disappoint you. More chance of me being a clone.” 

“Clones don't look like that, like you,” you laugh, then squint your eyes at the sun lowering in the sky. You’re both silent for a few minutes, the sound of the ocean distant but calming on your rock behind the inn. Finally you look back at your Mandalorian and lean into him a little. “I promise it’ll be okay. It’s for free, Din. We can’t ask for much more. And we can see if there’s something fishy going on with this guy. Chances are, fate brought us together for this reason. A familiar face, literally, who has exactly what we need. The Force moves in mysterious ways, my love.” You add with a playful nudge, and Din looks back at you. 

“What do you know about the Force?” He nudges you back and you laugh. “We should get going if we’re to meet your new hire.”

“My hire?”

“You can keep an eye on him, since you were so keen to bring him aboard.” Din says, standing up. “Just don’t fall in love with my face again.” He adds, teasing. 

You stand too, laughing as you adjust Grogu in his sling. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” 

Ezra is waiting at the ship’s ramp when you arrive. He’s showered and changed, and brought a large bag. Din doesn’t acknowledge the presence of the man, instead moving past him to enter the ship. You roll your eyes, remembering when you first met and he treated you the same way. It took a long while of gentle kindness to get Din to come out of his shell, you didn’t imagine it would happen to Ezra anytime soon. 

“Hi,” you greet, unlatching Grogu from your back and moving him around to your front. “All ready?” 

Ezra places his hands on his hips in a way that’s eerily similar to Din’s mannerisms. “Yes, ma’am. Your friend there, not much of a talker?” He follows you as you step up the ramp, your wrist gently throbbing from the day’s efforts, though it didn’t feel like much. 

“No,” you reply, setting the kid in his floating pram. “He just needs some warming up. You can call him Mando.” You introduce yourself finally, and shake Ezra’s hand. 

He echoes your name. “And Mando, will do. Who’s your little friend?” 

“This is Grogu,” you introduce him, and Grogu stares up with big, shiny eyes. “He’s..” You pause, not sure whether you should refer to him as your son, or Din’s son, to Ezra yet. “um, a baby.” You finish stupidly. “We take care of him.”

“Quite a travelling trio you’ve got aboard. And how will I be inserted into this troupe?” 

You can hear Din clanking around with something in the cockpit above, so you take the opportunity to explain things to Ezra. It’s difficult not to stare at his face, desperately searching the familiar features for some sort of answer as to why he shares a visage with your partner, but you hold it in for now. You show him where the tools and blueprints of the ship are stored, though he assures you he knows his way around a gunship. You talk him through the issues that keep coming up with the engines and show him what yourself and Din have already tried, with no luck. He stays quiet, occasionally quipping about neat handiwork and good welding, making your heart fill with pride. 

“There’s another thing,” You say, when you’ve finished closing up a panel. You hold out your injured arm to show Ezra. “I hurt my arm a week back,” you lower your voice, not wanting Din to hear. “And Mando has some off world jobs that need to be done within the next few days. I was trying to convince him to hire some extra hands to help me out while he was gone, but he wasn’t so keen on the idea. Now, I’m wondering if you would be willing to take on more than we originally agreed to. I know you said you just wanted a ride, but we have some credits-”

Ezra puts his hands up and closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Little missy, no need to barter. I can sense a good heart and a good character when I see one, and I’ve already made my offer, sans credits. That deal still stands now. I will be anything you need me to be, sweetheart., for as long as I am on this ship.”

The nickname sends a shiver down your spine - the same endearment Din calls you, and you inhale sharply. Will you even last more than a few days if things like this keep happening? 

“Oh, thanks,” you mumble, as you reach a button panel on the wall. “We can work out some more details later. This is where you’ll sleep. Sorry, it’s a little cramped.” The door slides open to reveal a small cubby, and Ezra leans past you to peer inside. 

“Is this a utility closet?”

“That’s what I said,” you laugh, and then you hear the light steps of Din coming down the ladder. You both turn around as his armoured presence reaches the ground floor, and he looks between yourself and Ezra. 

“Did I miss something?” He asks, referring to your laughter, though he doesn’t sound in a good mood. You feel like you might have to tell him off after - there’s no reason for him to be grumpy just because there’s a new hire on board. You didn’t spend years chipping away at his tough guy persona to start right back to square one. But for now, you don’t start anything, instead stepping forward to touch his arm gently. 

“We were discussing the size of the ‘guest room’,” you joke. “Do you need any help up top?”

“No,” he replies, turning to stare down Ezra, who is standing rather pathetically, unsure of what to do with himself. “You.” Din addresses the mechanic, who snaps to attention. “We need to be off this planet by daybreak. The boosters are prepped for repairs. Finish with those, and the rest can be done in hyperspace.” Without another word, Din saunters off down the ramp, and you snatch up Grogu and follow him. 

“I’ll be right back,” you call over your shoulder to Ezra, who waves a hand back. “Din,” you hiss as you catch up to him. “That’s not a lot of time to get that done. Do you think that’s fair?” 

“He wanted the job, that’s the job. You would do it, I would do it - if he’s as good as he says he is, then he’ll follow my instruction and be ready for takeoff come morning.”

“Is this a man thing?” You question, raising an eyebrow. “Like some stupid alpha male test? Like, you’ll kick him off the Crest if he can’t do it?” 

Din stares at you through the visor but doesn’t respond, so you roll your eyes and throw your hand up. You turn and adjust Grogu on your hip, trekking back up to the ship. “Whatever, fine. I don’t understand. I’m going to go and put the baby to bed.” You can hear Din chuckling at your exasperation, but you don’t gift him with any more talk, too tired and confused by the day’s turn of events to talk any sense into him anymore. 

You spend the next hour bathing Grogu, giving him dinner, and settling him into bed while Ezra works on the engines. Din hovers around the new hire, either anxious or curious about what he’s working on. You spend the time thinking about how you can figure out whether there's a relation between the two men - you can collect some hair maybe - Din owns some strange DNA contraption he uses while hunting quarries, and you could use it to compare Ezra and Din’s coding. You’re not sure how you’ll get anything from Ezra without being sneaky, but contemplate him maybe having a hair brush. 

“Okay buddy,” you set Grogu on the cot, wrapped in a little blanket. While the kid’s attitude is on the mend compared to the last seven days, you still don’t want to risk him having another restless night, so you’ve decided to keep him co-sleeping with yourself and Din for the next few nights. And even though Ezra is friendly as they come, there’s still a stranger in your ship, and you would prefer for Grogu to sleep close to you. 

When you try to stand after kissing him goodnight, he whines and tangles his fingers in your hair. “Oh, alright.” You smile and climb into bed beside him. “I’ll wait until you’re asleep.” You hum and close your eyes, cuddling him in your arms in the warmth of your home. 

It’s when there’s a gentle hand nudging you awake that you realize you fell asleep too.

“Kid, wake up.” Din’s voice is near your ear, modulated. You rub your eyes and squint, feeling bad that this is the second time in the last few days you’ve had to be woken up by your partner. You hear water running in the refresher and sit up, disoriented. 

You yawn. “How long was I out for? Who’s in the re….oh, right,” you look around the ship.

“He, um,” Din pauses. “We’re about to take off.” 

“He fixed it?” You say a little too loudly. 

“Well enough for us to get going. He’ll keep working on the wiring once we’re in hyperspace. We’re already two days behind schedule, and I need to get to the next job.” 

Din stands and leaves you, and you crack your back as the water in the refresher turns off. So it’s official. Ezra will be staying with you at least until he finishes the ship, but you hope Din will allow him to stay longer. You’ll have to convince him of that, especially since Ezra has already agreed he’ll do extra work for free. It makes guilt build in your chest, but in tight times like these, you have to accept friendly help sometimes. It’s Din who has the most problem with that, despite the fact that he himself does it all the time, as much as he likes to deny it. You decide you’ll go forth with your hair DNA plan, once you can try and find some of Ezra’s.

It will be strange to work alongside a man who has the same face as the Mandalorian you’ve come to know and love, but you’ll make it work. You just have to remove yourself from the mindset that they are so similar physically, and ignore any other connections that may pop up. That’s easy enough, right? 

The door to the refresher slides open and you turn around to greet Ezra - what you don’t expect is him to be leaning out of the door half naked, chest glistening and dripping wet, his smile grinning cheekily. 

“Hey, little gem, where do you keep the towels?”

“Oh, maker,” you whisper, as the ship rumbles to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just saying - Eiffel Tower. I would be on my hand and knees between these two men if given the chance. Also, again, I would like Grogu as a child. Thank you.


End file.
